


Accidentally Apparated into your Heart.

by centipedemanifest



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Sirius drunk apparates, don't drink and drive kids, homeschooled!remus, posthogwarts, tw:blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centipedemanifest/pseuds/centipedemanifest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James thought it would be grand for them to go get drinks at the last open pub not run by Death Eaters, and god, Sirius is piss drunk.<br/>If only he would have listened to James's mum. Or if Lily hadn't ditched him to go shag his best mate. Either way, Sirius is now royally fucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bugger

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this would be cute and instead I ripped my own hearts into shreds at several moments.  
> But it's still mainly cute. 
> 
> I apologize for butchering British slang, I really tried my best.

“Sirius,” James slurred, “You sure you’ll get home alright? Won’t run into a tricky spot with Death Eaters without me?”  

James winked, tipping the last dredges of beer in his bottle down his throat like water. He grimaced as a thought managed to make its way into his head.  “Hey, Ugh. Hey Lils? Love you, but Padfoot can’t bloody see straight when he’s utterly pissed, which means I really ought to take him home myself.” 

Sirius puffed out his chest, feeling affronted, as he was of the noble house of Black, thank you very much, fully capable of going home without an escort, and were his legs shaking? 

James lopsidedly smiled. Lily teetered to the side, and it took her a few tries to part her tangled mess of hair and see Potter’s sheepish expression.

“What, and ditch me?” Her lips pouted. “I knew once I agreed to date you, you’d stop caring and your sense of romance would wither.” She pressed her body against James, and wow, Sirius never needed to see his best mate sucking mouth so enthusiastically, dear lord, alcohol always did turn Lily into a foxy little minx. 

“Sorry Sirius, but this one is mine tonight. Watch out for Voldemort on the way home, okay?” Lily broke off the kiss and smirked as she pulled James into a side-along apparition, the both of them breathlessly laughing as they warped out of existence. 

How the hell had she managed to apparate the both of them while drunk? Sirius’s pleasantly buzzed brain was deeply impressed by this feat, and he brushed aside the fear of them splinching. Lily was a fine ol’ witch, she no doubt got them home alright. 

They were probably shagging on the couch this very instant.

It struck him that he was swaying from side to side alone outside a wizarding bar, and Lily had dumped him there so she could get laid with his best friend.  All right then. His brain was nothing but fuzzy happy feelings, so he couldn’t be bothered.

“Anyway, I’m a bloody wizard, aren’t I?” Sirius asked the air in front of him, and grinned loopily. “It’s time to play Wizard of Oz and send Dorothy home!” He snapped his fingers with a dramatic flourish, and then stared in bewilderment at his hands when nothing happened. “Oh, right. That’s not real magic. I need a proper magic stick, and a fancy word that the muggle magicians say, oh, what is it?” 

Sirius collapsed in a disheveled heap onto the sidewalk and scratched his head, squinting up at the night sky. “Alakazam? Scooby-dooby-doo?”

His scrunched-shut eyes slowly opened to register the sight above him. There were millions, no, billions of sparkling stars, and his drunk mind was momentarily stupefied by their beauty as the black heavens filled his vision. 

He felt choked up. 

“The whole world is so stunning, isn’t it? People keep dying left and right, and the fucking Dark Lord thinks he owns the planet, but the stars still shine down like nothing changed.” Tears welled up. “The Longbottoms, they didn’t deserve that stolen from them.”

He shook his head and clambered to his feet. Enough. Time to leave before Death Eaters really did find him unattended to. 

His head felt some momentary semblance of clarity and so he didn’t hesitate. With much less finesse than usual, Sirius twisted around and stumbled into the void that was apparition. “Home, please,” he thought. “There’s no place like home.”


	2. There's no place like home

He had to throw up. And then he didn’t, because he was an elegant drunk who didn’t do that sort of thing. 

He promised Mrs. Potter a long time ago that he would never drink and apparate, and look, she was bloody well right, wasn’t she? He felt like hell. And the bright light of his place wasn’t helping, it seared his retina in all the wrong ways- 

Wait. Grimmauld Place didn’t have bright lighting, it only had rickety chandeliers and creepy candles that screamed death threats. And he heard no candles cursing his name.

Sirius paused, momentarily astounded he managed to perform this feat of logic while completely pissed, and mentally congratulated himself. And then he panicked, because this was definitely not Grimmauld Place, and the white light had faded to reveal a rather plain looking living room that was not his.

He closed his eyes, willing his pounding head to focus in hopes he would open them again and the quaint room would vanish.

But the second his eyes screwed shut, a different pain quickly made itself known. 

He slowly reopened his eyes, almost scared to look at what he felt must be a bloody gruesome Splinch. It burned, it flamed, his nervous system screamed white hot pain-

He forced himself to look down and saw blood pouring in rivulets down his skinny jeans, a tattered hole in the pant leg revealing a sizable chunk of flesh missing above his ankle. Sirius's legs gave out at the sight and he collapsed onto the floor, knowing he was utterly fucked and still too drunk to do much about it. He was missing a bit of his leg, for heaven’s sake. 

Sirius’s whole body was sluggish and overly warm, and cold sweat began to make his skin sticky as he lay on the surprisingly comfortable carpeting.

Survival instinct kicked in. Sirius had fought off Death Eaters, a drunken mistake wouldn’t be what did him in now. Clenching his teeth and trying not to gag at his blood staining the floor, he dug his fingers into the plush carpet and pulled himself upright against the nearby window. He would just hop out, spell the blood away and-

 

Bloody. 20. Stories. High.

 

His woozy head swam at the distance between the ground and him, and he quickly slid back down with his back to the wall. 

 

Okay. So that idea was out. 

 

Temporarily stumped, his mind simply whirled aimlessly and randomly picked out details in the room. Muggle music in the form of records lined a small shelf. Across the living room stood several bookcases full of muggle books, and Sirius was proud to recognize the titles of “The Hobbit” and “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”. 

And connected to this room was a small tiled kitchen, with a muggle gas stove and muggle fridge-

Bloody hell. He was in a muggle flat. And suddenly the risk of exposing the whole wizarding world with his presence became evident, as if his situation weren’t bad enough. How would he explain how he got into this place? He was bloody 20 stories off the ground and he hadn’t busted down the door, and it’s not like he could tell the muggle who lived here the truth. Never mind that it was technically impossible to mistakenly apparate to a random place, that was its own magical can of worms.

Best case scenario, the muggle would think he was a professional burglar trying to rob him. For once, Sirius regretted his punk fashion style and leather jacket. 

 

He could not let the muggle find him, that was for sure.

 

Alright. He needed to leave, now. But his leg was drenched in blood and his head was starting to feel the effects of something more serious than alcohol…

The faint sound of an unlocking door reached his ears, and Sirius was strangely unafraid as he met the gaze of a brown haired man roughly his age in the entryway. Sirius’s eyes didn’t waver as he stared him down, taking in the mussed hair, scarred face and gobsmacked expression. Blood loss and drunkenness had made him numb and brave.

“How-h-how did you get in here? That, That’s not possible! It shouldn’t be! N-no way! I was _sure_ no one could and _ohmylord_ , that’s a lot of blood.” The man rushed over and grasped Sirius’s leg with long fingers that felt nice to Sirius’s foggy mind. Alright. If he’d just exposed the world of magic to a muggle, at least it was a muggle with pretty hands. 

He’d probably see the wand lying on the floor now, and figure it all out, and Sirius would go to Azkaban. Or bleed out first, that was becoming more likely. 

Hmm. The muggle's face was quite close to his.

“You have such nice eyes,” Sirius said, and smiled. “Such great eyes.” 

Smooth. Real smooth.

Sirius closed his own and slumped over.


	3. Mr. Not-A-Muggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius is loopy for Mr.Lupin, and the beer in his head makes everything feel like a great idea.

“Okay, so I double checked all the anti-apparition wards, and the general shield charms, and everything is still intact. I need to figure out what the flaw is before the Death Eaters show up in my living room, too…it should be impossible! It _is_ impossible!”

Sirius heard the words, but he didn’t understand them, the sounds all melting together into frustrated muttering. The voice was breathy and mellow, reminding him of warm blankets and Mr. Potter discussing historic troll battles. It was, however, becoming more and more tinged with desperation.  

The voice stopped and sighed a distraught little huff.

“And this doesn’t explain how some ridiculously attractive man apparated and passed out in my flat, like Santa dropped off an underwear model as an early Christmas gift. Of course he’d give me one with a horrible Splinching, since the universe is never fair to me. Do they have warranties on these things? Can I send him back for a refund and claim he’s missing a part? Oh, I gave him the standard blood replenishing potion I keep on hand, sure, but I can’t do anything about the missing flesh. Or the blood stains on the carpet, what will I tell the landlord?”

Sirius pried his eyes open to see the man he saw earlier looking very worried and his nice hands were fisted into his hair.

“I know a spell for that,” Sirius croaked, and the poor man jumped a foot in the air at the sound. He whirled around, looking a sheepish Sirius in the eyes. 

“You know, I thought you were a muggle, and that I’d managed to break the Statute of Secrecy and my own leg in one go. Good taste in muggle books, at least. I like The Hobbit,” Sirius said, and wow, the beer was still making his brain loopy. He ought to never drink again. 

“My mother is muggleborn,” the man said, still looking wary. “Should I ask how you know a spell to clean up blood? No, nevermind, I won’t. What is it?” The man shook his head and steeled his expression.

“Sanguinappate, and slowly siphon it out.”

“Well, now I can prove I’m no muggle, at least.” The man nervously smiled and pulled out a wand from his baggy jean pocket, fumbling a bit with it. He anxiously muttered the spell under his breath and looked mildly surprised when it worked.

“There you are,” Sirius said, and wow, his brain was currently really good at noticing all the lovely parts of this man’s face, which was all of it. A+ bone structure, that was. Ought to congratulate his muggleborn mother. 

Even the cheek scars were hot.

But his throbbing leg was demanding more attention now than the hot guy kneeling beside him.

“Is my leg just bad, or horrible?” Sirius desperately hoped it wasn’t bad enough to warrant St.Mungos, as he couldn’t exactly waltz in there recently.

“I gave you some potion, so I think it’s in stable condition. Though you scared me with the passing out bit in a pool of your own blood. Quite dramatic.”

Sirius’s cheeks colored. “Oh, yes, sorry about that. James always did say I had a dramatic flair. Really didn’t mean to shock you with my bleeding flesh tonight, and frankly, I really didn’t mean to be here at all, though it’s lovely place, love the library aesthetic.” Sirius gestured at the overflowing bookshelves. “Anyhow, I was aiming to go back to my place after getting tipsy, you see, which goes to show Mrs. Potter was always right saying that drinking and apparating shouldn’t mix. Wish I listened, but here I am.” Crap, he was rambling.

“I thought random apparition was magically impossible?” The man questioned, suspicion underlying his words.

Sirius shrugged. “I closed my eyes and wished for home, then I got yanked here, no clue how. Like a proper Dorothy getting sucked up by a tornado.”  

It took a second, but the other man’s mouth tugged into a tentative grin. The thrill Sirius got out of seeing the other man recognize the muggle reference was unbelievable, the high releasing an immediate dopamine rush and the confidence boost to try a bit of flirting. 

Let it be known that Sirius Black always moves fast. No time like the present, he always thought, as he could be dead within the month.

“Though, you’re a prettier sight than any wicked witch, Mr. Not-A-Muggle,” Sirius rolled off his tongue, and damn, he was smooth when he wanted to be. And also when drunk.

“The name is Remus Lupin.” 

Aww, was the man blushing? Sirius was too good.

“Remus, lovely to meet you.” Sirius tipped an imaginary hat.

“And I take it your name is Dorothy?”

Sirius laughed, the kind where he threw his head back and grinned. He loved this man’s, no, Remus’s subtle snark. “No, it’s far worse. Sirius Black, at your service.” Sirius gave a faux bow, as far as he could while sitting, anyway, and pretended he didn’t see the flicker of recognition that always came with his last name. 

But the usual curled lip of disgust was missing, and Sirius dared to hope Remus didn’t immediately assume Sirius was one of them.  Maybe his knowledge of muggle books had convinced Remus he held no pureblood prejudice like his darling family?

He wondered if he would ever leave behind his last name. “Black” loomed over him, making him feel small.  Like a stain he couldn’t scrub out.

 

“So where’s Toto, then?” Remus tried to joke, sensing the sudden tension in the air, and all hints of suspicion gone from his tone.

Sirius’s eyes widened with delight as a splendid thought struck him. 

Oh, Remus had no idea how perfect this was.

Sirius was both Dorothy and Toto in one! 

It would be an incredibly splendid idea to transform into Padfoot right this instant and show off his cool Animagus skills! Remus would be so impressed, wouldn't he. Sirius was a genius. 

Within seconds he bounded up to Remus and excitedly slobbered all over him, tail wagging at maximum speed.

Look at me Remus! Look, I'm Toto, I can turn into a bloody big black dog!

Of course, "Bark! Bark bark bark! Bark!" was how the thought came out.

“Holy hell, you’re an animagus,” Remus breathed out, hand shaking a bit as he reached out to touch Padfoot’s neck. “I…this whole evening feels like a strange dream. Hello, Toto. I think we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

Padfoot yipped in agreement, and wow, such a great smell, Remus smelled divine, like cocoa and cinnamon and all Remus-y, and a musky animal scent that he couldn’t pin down-

“Should you be transforming while drunk? And your leg, it’s still a fresh wound, be careful.”

Padfoot whined.

“Really, please, I just bandaged you up and I can see you make a magnificent Toto, now turn back before you ruin your leg.” 

Remus recovered from shock quickly, didn’t he? Much more mature and responsible than Sirius was, anyway, and Sirius was already in love with this bookish man with a hidden backbone. 

But now it was human Sirius giving Remus a forlorn pout. No need to end a bit of fun, he felt loads better!

“Excuse me for being cautious after you fainted.”

Sirius gasped. “I did not faint!”

“Oh no, you just took a manly nap. Sorry for the horrible mistake.” Remus was giving Sirius a teasing smile, and wow, that went straight to Sirius’s dick. Bad drunk Sirius, don’t ruin Remus’s innocence with your horny mind. 

Thankfully the pain in his leg distracted him. Whoops, was that fresh blood?

“Argh, you managed to reopen the wound in dog form. This is exactly what I was talking about. Unless you want a trip to St.Mungos, you better move onto the couch and prop your leg up.” 

Sirius wondered about that. Why hadn’t Remus just packed him off to St.Mungos from the start? 

“I don’t know about you, but I haven’t trusted any Ministry affiliated magical hospitals recently, and that’s all of them. And a muggle hospital wouldn’t know what to do with a Splinch,” Remus curtly replied, and gently pulled Sirius up onto shaky feet.

Whoops, Sirius had mumbled that out loud.

“Thanks for the consideration. I would be in a right spot in the care of Death Eaters, as most of them happen to have a personal beef with me,” Sirius chuckled at his own joke.

“Oh yes, your family members, of course,” and Remus cut himself off with a look of sheer mortification. 

No matter, Sirius didn’t mind. It was no secret most of his old family pledged themselves to the Dark Lord. 

“Hit the nail on the head. My dear cousin Bellatrix especially swore to Crucio me into dust for disgracing the family name. Doesn’t stop outsiders from thinking I carry the bloody mark cause I’m a Black, too. Tossers. You seem alright, though, Remus. Don't seem to be afraid of me.”

Remus currently was struggling to shuffle Sirius’s body over to the couch, and Sirius couldn’t do much more than lock his arms over Remus’s shoulders and hold on tight. Bloody useless legs couldn’t support his own weight. 

His libido definitely wouldn’t complain, though, as he could feel Remus’s back muscles stretch, pulling taut in all the right ways while he let Sirius lean on him. 

Remus's mellow voice seemed to appear out of nowhere from the thoughtful silence. “Right, well, if it makes you feel better, most people assume I’m a Death Eater from the get go as well. Guess we both understand the weight of stigma. I’m a werewolf.” 

And with that bomb dropped, Remus dumped Sirius onto the couch.

Sirius couldn’t help it. As soon as his back hit plush leather he pumped a fist into the air. 

“I bloody KNEW it! First thing my dog nose picked up was the smell of animal, but it sure wasn’t me I was smelling. So what, old chap. Trying to get me out of your hair by scaring me with your furry little problem?” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows unceremoniously. 

He grinned madly as he had another epiphany.

“You know what this means? You’re the cowardly lion! All according to story! I love when extended metaphors work out so well.”  

Remus was standing far too still, and Sirius’s woozy brain failed to notice the tears until too late.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean it! You can be the scarecrow, or Dorothy, anyone you want, the cowardly lion is dumb anyway! I’m just being an insensitive bastard as usual, don’t cry.” Sirius’s hands reached out for Remus like a lost child looking for their mum, stroking, trying to comfort the best they could. 

Clear tracks of tears ran down Remus’s cheeks but he smiled, a real grin, and he wiped the tears off with the back of his hand bashfully.  “I’m afraid I fit the tin man much better in this metaphor, what with my loneliness. Yeesh, I’m sorry for crying. I just never had someone look so happy after telling them about me in my whole life. I didn’t even plan to tell you originally. This whole past hour is a shock, and if I was a person who drank I would sure as hell have a drink now, to be honest.”

Sirius was overjoyed to see that Remus wasn’t sad because of his dumb mouth, and he nodded over-enthusiastically. “Me too, mate, but I’m drunk already! Rain can’t make you wetter after you’re already drenched, and all that. I think? Who knows, it sounds like something Mrs. Potter would say to me.”

Remus looked over curiously, tears already dry. “Mrs. Potter this, Mrs. Potter that. Who is this woman?”

“My best mate James’s mum! She’s the kindest soul on this earth, took me in when I ran off age sixteen. I think everyone could use her advice, she’s a right sensible woman.”

“No doubt. She sounds lovely. Is she looking for you now, do you think? Or her son James, your friend?” 

Remus suddenly looked concerned by the idea of someone searching for a missing Sirius. “Maybe I’ve been keeping you here too long.”

Sirius snuggled deeper into the couch cushions, as if hoping he could glue himself in place that way. “Yes. But I like it here with you.”

Remus sighed the sigh of a man who denies himself many things. 

“I won’t indulge you, you know. I’d like to be selfish and keep you around, but I already put some extract of Dittany on your leg and have nothing else left to do for you, so you must go soon. James, he’s your friend, right? Isn’t he worried?”

“No,” Sirius mumbled petulantly into a couch pillow. “He’s boning his girlfriend.”

Remus stopped, his tongue caught for a second. “Right. And his mother, Mrs. Potter?”

“On holiday, which means in hiding.”

 

“And is there anyone else waiting for you?”

 

Sirius’s brain was shutting down, the tiredness and beer catching up with his hyperactive system. This couch was oh so nice, and smelled like good things and like _home_ , in the way Grimmauld Place never did.

 

“Death. But I’ll make sure he waits to take me until after my time has come, that impatient bastard.”

 

Sirius turned onto his side, and the world faded away into dreams of fighting green witches and warmth and howling wolves. 

 

 


	4. very legal pickpocketing indeed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to have taken so long, but I'm picking this story back up! also join me in crying over random shit on centipedemanifest.tumblr.com

Remus winced as his fingers forced their way deeper into Sirius’s jean pockets, increasing the palm-to-ass ratio significantly enough to make his cheeks burn red in shame. His hands shifted, digging in hopes of finding a cellphone or a wallet, _anything_ other than the supple flesh of Sirius’s fantastic buttocks under his fingertips. Damn. This was not the way Remus imagined his first criminal act would go down.

Not that a little pickpocketing was a criminal act! Well, technically it was, but not in this case. Remus simply needed to do the right thing, which happened to require pickpocketing the drunk man asleep on his couch. Or, more precisely, the very, very attractive drunk man asleep on his couch.

After several minutes of panicked huffing and the rising interest of Remus’s lower body, Remus nearly wept at the discovery of a flip phone at the base of Sirius’s back pocket. A few clicks later, he cradled the speaker between his ear and cupped palms and waited for the shrill dialtone beeps to end, tapping his boot on the carpet as he did. Remus listened patiently for another second before his whole body flushed red and he fumbled to end the call, nearly breaking the phone in a panic. Right. Sirius said his best mate was busy fucking his girlfriend, and that was undoubtedly the same James Potter he just dialed. Lovely. 

He scrolled down to contact number 2, a “Peter Pettigrew”. This time, he succeeded in reaching a man who sounded incredibly uncomfortable (Remus could hear him fidgeting nonstop, nevermind that he barely managed to squeak out the street address of a suitable safehouse) and Remus ended the call with a subdued smile. His palm grazed past the plastic casing of the phone, fighting the urge to enter “Remus Lupin” under the last open contact. Remus huffed at himself, feeling like a young schoolboy all over again, all blushes and dirty thoughts and full of ridiculous notions like love.

Perched in the freshly opened doorway of the safehouse Pettigrew directed him towards on the phone, crazy thoughts started flying into his head, thoughts of never letting Sirius leave and simply going back to Remus's place with him. But that wasn't what happened. Instead, Remus permitted himself to press only the slightest of kisses (in a fit of madness, he claimed, he wasn’t feeling well, it certainly wasn’t a crush of any sort) to Sirius’s forehead, sweeping aside scattered black strands in favor of the smooth skin beneath, and then he tucked the man inside the first bedroom he found. He closed the door behind him, whispered a few protective charms for good measure, and didn't linger long. Remus knew Dorothy must return to Kansas. Oz wasn't for her.

 

  
  
  



End file.
